Fenris' Mansion
by Apprivoisu
Summary: Smell is one of the senses of the body, but certain smells can bring up bad memories.


Fenris didn't know when it all started, but he began to notice that Hawke was avoiding him. Well not him specifically, but his mansion. Whenever they had a game of diamondback at his place, Hawke would quickly come up with an excuse and leave immediately. At some point, it didn't seem that Hawke was even trying to come up with a plausible excuse. She once said she was going to the privy and he didn't see her for an entire week.

Sure his mansion could use a bit of spring cleaning, but the abandoned look was the real charm. The nobles didn't bother to reclaim such a run-down place as it was more of a loss than a profit. Thieves didn't dare enter in fear of the haunting ghost. The city guard…..well Aveline handled that nicely.

When Hawke refused to join another game at the Casa de Fenris, it quite frankly pissed him off. The lyrium markings on his skin began to glow, but it became unnoticeable to him as he glared at Hawke.

Giving his best 'I hate mages' face, he snarled out, "Is my mansion not befitting enough for a champion?"

Raising her left hand to shield her eyes from his sudden glow, she retorted, "Like I said, I promised Barkspawn we would play fetch with Sandal. The duties of a champion. "

"Come on Hawke, even Merrill would be able to come up with something better." Varric gave her one his little triumph smug smiles.

"It isn't that I don't like your place….. it's just… Fenris, not to be rude but your place is a complete shit storm. It's worse than Darktown."

"It can't be worse than Ander's clinic!"

"Hey!"

"At least he cleans up his dead bodies. You still have decomposing bodies lying all around the mansion. I don't know how you can stand the stench."

"We're all use to this smell. We've killed and murdered. This is nothing compared to what we've faced." Fenris pointed an accusing finger towards Hawke.

Hawke gave an exasperated sigh and raised her arms up in a form of surrender. "Fenris I had no idea you hated cleaning this much. Look, if you clean up the dead bodies and get rid of that stench, I'll come on over and play. Get rid of the stench and keep the wench. Until then I'm not taking one step into that bloody hellhole."

Hawke promptly turned around and marched out of high town leaving behind a fuming Fenris.

* * *

Hawke didn't stop her march until she reached the harbor. Without looking she instinctively boarded Isabela's boat and flopped on her back so she would face the sky. Isabela wouldn't mind if she snuck onto her ship. Well Isabela would actually mind, but she did help capture this ship so it should be fine. Anyways, she needed to get away.

It wasn't that she minded the smell it just brought up unwanted memories. Dead bodies especially. Fenris' mansion always smelled like a hint of metallic blood and a dash of taint. No, cross that out… heavily of taint. It was if she were back in the Deep Roads.

Fenris' mansion was the Deep Roads in disguise. The atmosphere was similar; a dreading feeling of no return combined with the lingering smell of decomposing bodies. The constant mobs of Darkspawn relentlessly attacking their party reminded her so much of the ambush set up for them in Fenris' own mansion. They were too eerily similar.

Those unwanted memories would occasionally bubble up whenever she got too close to Fenris' place. Today had been too close. She could still see the lingering memories so vividly in her eyes. She could still feel the cold stealing her warmth. She could still smell the taint and blood…. on Carver.

Carver's dying breaths as he begged her to end her life. Her baby brother's hands helping her clumsy shaking hands grip onto the handle of the dagger. Even through her eyes filled with tears, she could unmistakably see Carver smile at her like he was so damn bloody proud of his big sister. There was nothing to be proud of. Here she was holding a dagger over her baby brother's heart. For what?

After holding her gaze, he closed his eyes; ready to accept the fate that the Maker laid out for him. He didn't want to leave this world. He didn't want to leave his mother. He didn't want to leave his sister even though he would never admit it.

Hawke tightened her shaky grip on the dagger and plunged it into Carver's heart. A quick death was the best gift she could give to him. Blood splattered onto her and covered her hands. She could smell the blood of her brother, and the cursed taint in the atmosphere around her. The smell was too strong. It reminded her too much too soon.

Hawke closed her eyes and inhaled the smell of the salty sea hoping that it would erase all traces of the stench. It seemed that lately she was sneaking onto the boat more and more just to get away from the smells. The smells that reminded her too much of a past better left forgotten.


End file.
